Devil's Division
by Pale White Shadow
Summary: The Citadel is destroyed, the Brotherhood of Steel scattered at the hands of the Lone Wanderer. Arthur Maxson and what remains of the Lyon's Pride escape the hellish assault to escape west... to the Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel.
1. Devastation

**Authors Note: I just want to clear up beforehand I bumped up Arthur's age from ten to fifteen for story purposes. I also want to make it clear I'll be taking liberties with some locations such as this one. Also the story will get its namesake a few chapters in. Enjoy.**

* * *

Squire Arthur Maxson stood in the center of the Citadel's armory amazed. This was the first time he had been in here, and the sight of the multifold destructive armament made him smile. R91 and Type 93 assault rifles, AER9 laser rifles, and a smattering of plasma rifles hung on the walls, with 10mm conventional and AEP7 laser pistols on tables directly beneath them. On shelves in the center of the room were an assortment of behemoth 5mm miniguns and punishing gatling lasers alongside devastating missile launchers. In a separate area that was more akin to a cage were a few sniper rifles and the ammunition for them; Knight Captains Colvin and Dusk argued quietly as they dismantled their weapons for routine repairs, as was the rest of the Pride. Arthur watched them and marveled how the Brothers (as he referred to them despite Sarah and Dusk being female) could move their hands so fluidly to deal with such intricacies. It was Sarah's idea to bring him down here; after her recovery from the events of Project Purity her guiding arm was placed about his shoulders once again. He didn't mind, of course he didn't mind. He loved spending every moment with her, even when her helmet hid her beautiful face. Fortunately it did not now. He gazed at her fondly, letting his mind wander with his fifteen year old thoughts. If anyone in the Brotherhood had innate mind-reading powers they would certainly blush at his reverie.

"You paying attention Squire?" the Sentinel cajoled him, making him start.

"Yes ma'am." he quickly lied, giving her a nod.

"Good. This may seem a bit basic but it's essential to your training as a Brother of Steel. One day you'll be expected to maintain your own weapons. So..." she trailed off as she stepped away from the table bearing the dismantled laser rifle. "Better start now." she told him with a grin.

Arthur cursed inwardly. He hadn't paid attention to a damn thing and now he was going to pay for it. As he stepped up to the table he readied himself to try and perform the remantling on the fly. He hoped he could figure it out on his own...

He was saved from his apparent personal humiliation by what felt like the end of the world.

Without any preamble the entire room rocked, chunks of plaster falling from the ceiling as the ground beneath him shook like a mighty earthquake had gripped the world. Rifles and pistols clattered to the ground as the area bucked and swayed, causing a few misfires to make Arthur hit the deck to avoid stray rounds. Every five seconds it felt as if the force doubled in intensity with a tremendous roar, causing shelves to topple and knees to buck. It lasted for all of one minute before it stopped and the world was quiet.

"What the fuck was that?" was Dusk's eloquent query after it was over.

"Earthquake?" came Kodiak's hopeful theory.

"Too damn loud for an earthquake." was Sarah's reply, and Arthur couldn't agree more. It was something far more sinister than a simple earthquake.

"Bombing run." was the simple statement from Knight Captain Gallows.

"And we felt it this far belowground with who knows how much concrete and steel between us and the surface?" Paladin Vargus couldn't seem to help but snap at the Knight.

Gallows simply shrugged and cocked back the bolt to his customized scoped and suppressed assault rifle, looking menacing in his power armor with attached helm. Arthur had never seen him without his helmet or armor off.

"Whatever it was we need to find out. Gallows, Kodiak, get topside and figure out what the hell is going on." the Sentinel barked to her special operationist and generalist.

"Roger that." the two sounded off, Gallows taking the lead as Kodiak shouldered a laser rifle and followed, stepping over the newly-made debris of weapons and ammunition to make it to the hallway leading out. After they had left, the Sentinel knelt down next to Maxson.

"You alright Arthur?" she asked him gently, worry lacing her voice.

Arthur brushed some debris from his coat. "I'm alright Sentinel." he responded gruffly, though he was taken by the concern. The shock from the unexpected event had passed, and now concern for the rest of the Citadel had replaced it. Vargus was right, what could it have been to make them feel it down here? It couldn't have been anything good. Arthur had heard rumors that the "Lone Wanderer" had been tasking with a mission to destroy the new Enclave base at some airfield that housed a weapon of massive destruction... maybe he didn't make it in time? That thought made the Squire's blood run cold and goosebumps prickled his flesh. No. No. It couldn't be. The Wanderer wouldn't fail them now after all he'd done. Would he?

Following that line of inner musing came the return of Paladin Kodiak. He stopped just short of the threshold, laser rifle lax in his grip.

"Sarah." came his heavy voice through his armor's external speakers. "Sarah... guys... come look. Just... come look." was all he spoke in a voice laden with the shock of one who had seen something unfathomable.

Arthur's blood turned to ice.

The entire Pride followed Kodiak outside.

Outside into what had used to be the Citadel.

What was now a still-burning crater of fallen stone and warped metal.

Sentinel Sarah Lyons fell to her knees and screamed a blood-curdling scream into the mid-afternoon sky as Colvin began to chant softly for all the lost souls of the murdered Brotherhood. The other members could only stare in complete disbelief at the devastation as Arthur Maxson, fifteen year old descendant of the Brotherhood's founder, with a heart made of forged steel, broke down and openly wept.


	2. Retreat

There was a fire to rival any pre-War nukes in Sarah's voice when she ordered them back below to gear up. She silently handed Arthur a laser rifle and a bandolier of microfusion cells. He slung it over his recon armor and shrugged his officer's coat back on, loading a cell into the AER9 and snapping the ammunition gate shut. The rest of the Brotherhood took all they could carry on their person, far beyond a full combat load. The last glimpse of Sarah's face Arthur saw was of her holding back unshed tears in her fiery eyes. The room was as silent as the rest of the Citadel minus the noise that accompanied the flurry of activity in the armory. Within minutes the Knights of the Lyon's Pride were locked and loaded, awaiting only their leader. After checking over a few minute details on her own laser rifle she said nothing but slowly made her way out of the armory towards the ruins of the Citadel. The rest of the squad followed, Arthur in tow as they ascended topside. As soon as they exited the armory the Sentinel slung her rifle across her back and began to climb the rubble in the direction of the main gate. The rest of the Pride followed suit, Paladin Glade's progress especially slow due to the gatling laser and Tesla cannon strapped to his back.

Before long the Sentinel, her squad, and the Squire had made it to the main gate of what was once the United States Pentagon. Sarah couldn't help but turn back for one final look at the smoldering ruins; it had been her home for over sixteen years. Her father and friends, hell her whole family was somewhere in those ruins. Arthur could practically feel her heart tearing itself asunder and could barely begin to comprehend what she was feeling as of now. The Squire himself was just numb from shock, his mind a complete haze. He hoped he'd stay this way forever. He didn't want to think about anything, he just wanted to follow orders. Following orders would just make life so much simpler. Colvin still hadn't completed his chant; he seemed determined to honer each Brother and Sister of Steel individually. They stood there for perhaps two minutes before the Sentinel whispered something under her breath that Arthur didn't catch and abruptly about-faced and headed out the double doors.

Almost as soon as they exited the now familiar whirl of Veritbird blades cut through the dulled sound of flames in the Citadel. Sarah rushed down the destroyed corridor and past the broken gate, the Pride in her wake. A quick scan of the hazy green sky told Arthur that the flying craft would land on the eastern side of the Citadel in perhaps one minute. Without a word the Sentinel rushed in that direction, eager to hook up with any remaining Brothers. Arthur could hear the Vertis landing in the distance... and then the air was rent with the whine of a gatling laser and the screams of dying men.

The Sentinel seemed to push harder at this, rounding the corner to the landing area.

There Arthur caught the sight of a man in T51-b power armor with a gatling laser single-handedly cutting down what was left of the Brotherhood of Steel, their cries of "traitor!" being the last words they ever uttered.

The Lone Wanderer.

With lightning speed Colvin and Dusk had the Wanderer in the sights of their scopes.

"Engaging!" they both cried in near unison.

"Negative!" Sentinel Lyons barked at the pair.

Pure shock caused the Knight Captains to stare at their leader.

"But Sentinel-" Dusk started.

"No. I don't want to hear it. All of you, fall back to Project Purity. I'll stay behind and cover your retreat." Sarah ordered in a voice of adamant steel.

"Sarah-" Arthur began. "Squire, not a word. Not one goddamn word. I will not have the founder's descendant fall on my watch." she snapped. "Vargas, you're in charge now. Take care of my Pride."

"Sentinel, please, let me stay..." the Paladin offered only to have a laser rifle leveled at his head.

"Get the fuck out of here Paladin that's an order!" Sarah Lyons cried out. Vargas said nothing, merely nodding and turning around as the Sentinel charged forth at the murderer of the Brotherhood. It was quite a sight to Arthur, the love of his life charging to dead glory as a Vertibird took off from the scene of carnage in a hurry, a metal man cutting a swathe through all of life in the scene before all in the world was blurred from tears in his eyes and a gauntleted hand steered his back toward the direction of the rest of the Pride.

They all ran, following the same path that Liberty Prime had cut through not three weeks ago. Before too long Arthur could hear static crackle through the integrated headset in his recon armor's hood.

"This is Knight Sergeant Ivan calling any remaining Knights in the area. The Lone Wanderer has betrayed us, I repeat, the Lone Wanderer has betrayed us. The Citadel is lost, I repeat, the Citadel is lost. Is anyone reading me? Over."

"This is Paladin Vargas, acting commander of the Lyon's Pride. We are the only survivors of the Citadel bombardment. Request evac from Project Purity, I repeat request evac from Project Purity." Vargas's voice filtered through his external speakers as they raced down the ruins.

"Roger Paladin, we read you five-by-five. Request for evac confirmed, but where the hell are we supposed to go?" was the Knight's response, and Arthur couldn't agree more. Where else was safe?

"We'll figure that out when we get to it, for now we just need to get the hell out of here." was Vargus' curt response.

"Ten-four sir, we'll be waiting for you at the purifier." was the last response Arthur heard before the com snapped off. And so they ran east towards Project Purity, towards the very thing the Lone Wanderer had set out to complete, to restore the waters of the Capital Wasteland to habitable quality.


	3. Evacuation

Project Purity and their awaiting Vertibird was directly in front of them. Arthur's lungs hurt and there was a stitch in  
his side but he never slowed his pace with the other Knights during their mad dash. His tears still had not let up. He  
cried for his home, he cried for his friends, he cried for Sarah. He knew what fate befell her. He only hoped she bought  
them enough time to escape. It seemed cowardly, but he knew there was no other alternative; the Wanderer would destroy  
them all if they stayed. And so they rushed toward the awaiting vehicle, its side doors opening in anticipation. The other  
Brotherhood stationed at the purifier were forming a defensive line to defend against the marauding Wanderer, the Scribes  
peering anxiously skyward for another inbound Vertibird.

"Paladin Vargas, we saw the devastation from here." a fellow Knight greeted them. "Is it true? Has the Lone Wanderer  
betrayed us?"

Vargas nodded. "The last we saw of him he was busy murdering the survivors of the Brotherhood." Vargas growled vehemently.  
"We've been tasked by Sentinel Lyons to escort the Squire to safety."

"And where's the Sentinel now sir?"

"She charged the Wanderer to buy us time to make it here." was the sad response.

"I understand sir. Don't worry, we'll make sure he doesn't make it past-"

The Knight's words were cut short with a lancing energy beam to the head, causing his helmet to disintegrate.

Arthur looked back behind them and saw the power-armored form shift his aim toward the Pride.

"TAKE COVER!" Vargas screamed as he pushed Arthur down behind a set of sandbags, following him with the rest of the Pride.

The whine of the Wanderer's energy weapon filled the air alongside the red pulses of condensed energy flying overhead. Any  
Brother with good sense quickly took cover before the barrage, occasionally peeking out to return fire. As soon as the  
fire withered out as the Wanderer reloaded Vargas ordered for covering fire. He hefted the Squire to his feet and rushed  
for the Vertibird, smoking but thankfully intact against the Wanderer's gatling laser. The ten Knights in the defensive  
line opened up, the clack of bullets and the pulse of energy beams tracing the Wanderer's path to his own cover. Vargas  
was the first to reach the Vertibird, stopping to help Arthur inside the cramped machine. He quickly made his way to the  
back of the eight-seater vehicle and began to strap in as the rest of the Pride followed him in and strapped themselves  
into their crash seats. Vargas was the last aboard.

"Where to sir?" was the pilot's question, his hands already a blur as he made the Vertibird airborne.

"Anywhere but here. Head west. Maybe we can hook up with the Outcasts, or at least resupply there."

"You got it Paladin." came the pilot's reply as the Vertibird shuttered and jerked up into the air.

Arthur sniffed and wiped what felt like the last tears he'd ever cry with his jacket sleeve. "Are you sure the Outcasts  
will even help us? Elder Lyons struck them from the Codex after all."

"What other choice do we have?" was Vargas' answer.

Arthur Maxson couldn't think of one.

* * *

It was six in the evening according to the Vertibird's internal clock. Attempts to hail Fort Independence had failed;  
Vargas had ordered them to land regardless. The surviving Brotherhood from the battle at the purifier would meet with them  
there. As soon as the Vertibird jarred upon impact of the ground the side doors slid open and the Lyon's Pride exited,  
guns at the ready. They were met by silence and darkness. The dark silhouette of the fort along the skyline was the only  
thing mentionable in the immediate setting. Directly ahead of them was the fort's main gate. Vargas ordered the squad to  
move up, Arthur keeping his rifle leveled as they trod up the broken pre-War road toward the gate. Opening it was not  
necessary as it was blasted off its hinges, a small crater where it used to stand. A quick scan of the inlying premises  
showed two prone bodies in black and red power armor.

"Oh great. He got here first." Dusk surmised grimly. Arthur saw no reason to diffute that logic.

"I wonder how long they've been dead..." Kodiak thought aloud as Colvin began to pray for the Outcasts souls.

"Doesn't matter. We get in there, dig in, wait for the rest." was Vargas' curt reply.

"Movement at the doorway." Gallows suddenly called out, his visor hovering over his rifle's scope.

"Outcast?"

Gallow fired a muffled burst of fire in the direction of the fort. "Raider."

Vargas cursed. "Get inside. We're too exposed out here. Dusk, Colvin, switch to sidearms. Your rifles won't do any good in  
there." Vargas ordered and began to move toward the fort's interior at a quick pace. Arthur followed Vargas, making sure  
to strafe in case of any incoming fire. He'd been in a few skirmishes despite not having any formal training, Sarah would  
take him out on patrols every once and a while to give him a taste of battle. Sarah... he quelled any other emotions that  
thought could form.

Vargas went through the door first, the steel fixture ajar, a raider clad in mismatched leather apparel with no head lay  
against the wall clutching an R91 rifle. He leaned from the cover of the threshold to the right to find two raiders. One  
carried a combat shotgun, the other an energy rifle. Both opened fire on the Paladin and he ducked his head back.

"Glade, take care of the scum in there." Vargas ordered their heavy weapons specialist. Glade merely grunted and hefted  
his gatling laser, taking Vargas' place of cover. After the raider's fire petered out Glade stepped out from the doorway  
and opened up, his energy lances burning holes in the bodies of the brutal wastelanders. They fell down screaming in  
agony. He moved up the corridor, his power armored boots clanking loud in the stillness of the fort, his energy weapon at  
the ready to cut down any more enemies daring to show their face.

* * *

One hour later and the fort had been cleared of all the raiders that had taken up residence following the Outcasts'  
demise. The other Vertibird never appeared; Arthur feared that the rest of the Brotherhood didn't make it at Project  
Purity. He did not voice his fears though; their situation was dire and did not call for more stress. Instead he focused  
on carrying this heavy box of ammunition to the Vertibird. The Pride was scavenging whatever they could from the derelict  
fort except for the Outcasts power armor. Paladin Vargas had ordered field burials for all the bodies they found. Even  
though they had been outcasted, they were still Brothers in one form or another; they deserved that much respect.

Arthur set the metal box down with a quiet thud to the earth and Paladin Glade quickly scooped it up and placed it into  
the vehicle. As the Squire turned around to head back to the fort he heard Glade ask him a question he didn't quite catch.

"What was that?" he asked as politely as he could. It still came out quite gruff.

"I said, how do you feel?"

"I'm alright Paladin. Just happy to... to be alive..." he trailed off, trying with all his might to shove his welling  
emotions down into a deep dark pit where they could never bother him again.

"Bullshit. You wish that you'd been killed right alongside them in the blast or stayed with Sarah despite her orders. I  
can see it in your eyes Squire. It's in all of ours now. Even Gallows, and that bastard is a rock. Everyone is shaken by  
this. But we're veterans to all this. We'll get through this. You're still young. This is your first real taste of  
warfare. So, I'll ask again: how do you feel?"

Arthur said nothing at first, asking himself that very question. And finally, he had the answer.

"I want to kill everyone remotely responsible for all this."

* * *

The Pride was grouped around the Vertibird, their disection of the fort now complete.

"Alright squad, we're now stocked for pretty much anything the Wasteland can throw at us except maybe the Wanderer  
himself." Vargas started grimly. "Now, the question is... where do we go from here?"

"We could head to the Pitt." Kodiak piped up almost immediately. Arthur was sure he'd been thinking about that for awhile.

"Negative. I don't know if you heard but there's rumors circulating the Wanderer is the new Lord of the Pitt, and at this  
point I'm not ruling anything out. Bastard's probably the one that detonated Megaton's bomb too."

"Head south to Point Lookout?" Colvin suggested as Kodiak glowered behind his visor at the ground.

"And get stuck in the swamp? We wouldn't last a day in that muck." Dusk scathed at her rival.

"Okay then what's your idea?"

"Um..."

"Exactly." Colvin stated triumphantly.

"Colvin, Dusk has a point. It's not feasible. We have no way to reinforce, no assets to claim there, and it's a damn  
swamp. Then again, I don't think the Wanderer would ever look there..."

"He's been there before." Gallows uttered.

Vargas sighed. Arthur knew Gallows would know something like that.

"Any other ideas?" Vargas asked once again.

"What about the Midwestern Brotherhood?"

At that remark everyone turned their gaze upon Paladin Glade calmly cleaning his gatling laser.

"What was that?" Vargas asked him.

"What? We tried to meet up with them before. They turned us away because we were still from out west. We just tried to  
enlist the help of some other Brotherhood that had been struck from the Codex one way or the other. We all know the West  
Coast Brotherhood would turn us away if we showed up at Lost Hills, and that's why no one's suggested it. So why not give  
them a shot? Either way, it gets us far the hell away from the Capital Wasteland and that treacherous Wanderer." Glade  
pontificated as he cleaned a smudge from one of the focus lenses on his laser.

"Glade... I think you might be right." Vargas sighed and rubbing his eyes. "I don't like it... but it's the only chance we  
have at regrouping. What do you think Squire?"

"Me?" Arthur started at being asked his opinion.

"Sure. We've been tasked with defending you. You're the descendant of this entire order's founder. Surely you should have  
some say-so when the situation is this dark?"

"I... I guess..." Arthur muttered, uncomfortable at being thrust in the spotlight. The entire Pride was looking at him,  
Brothers far older than him. He was only fifteen. He wasn't even initiated. And yet they were asking him what they should  
do.

"I say we try and regroup with this Midwestern Brotherhood. Even if they don't accept us we'd at least be in somewhat safe  
territory right?"

"Truer words couldn't be spoken. So it's agreed. We head west to contact the Midwestern Brotherhood."


	4. Landing

The surviving Brotherhood of the Capital Wastelands sat in silence on the flight west, most of them asleep or close to  
it. The pilots were staying awake from mentats, not that they were proud of it. Still, they needed the heightened boost of  
awareness to stave off the sandman. Arthur himself couldn't sleep; now that he was out of any immediate danger his mind  
had drifted back to mourn. There were no tears, though. Only silent reflection. None of them could have known the Wanderer  
would turn on them, how could they? He had helped the Lyon's Pride fight their way through the DC Ruins to the GNR  
building. He killed a super-mutant behemoth there, he'd heard. He had come to them seeking asylum and sanctuary for the  
scientists of Project Purity. And he even teamed up with the Lyon's Pride once more to storm the Project! Of course,  
Arthur had heard rumors that the Wanderer himself didn't activate the purifier; with the control room full of radiation he  
had asked a ghoul follower of his to do it for him. His virtuous nature began to be questioned there in the Squire's mind.  
He wondered what else the Wanderer could have been responsible among the wastes: the destruction of Megaton? Of the  
fabled Oasis? The massacre of Underworld? The rash of slavings that had been taking place lately?

Who would doubt it at this point?

And with that final thought Arthur lost his struggle and succumbed to the realm of dreams.

The super-mutant roared as Arthur leveled his laser rifle at its head and squeezed off a shot, the red beam connecting  
with its flesh and making it pop and sizzle. As it howled in pain Arthur wasted no time in performing a jumping spin kick  
and caving in its skull. Mutie bastard. As it fell dead Arthur turned behind him to fire two more lances into the awaiting  
mutants. One was way taller than all the others but now he was blind. Arthur chose him and ran up his torso, standing on  
his shoulders in perfect balance and squeezing the trigger of his rifle at anything yellow in the sea of war surrounding  
him. They were winning. The Brotherhood just couldn't be beat. It was impossible. With their impenetrable armor and  
advanced weaponry they would not only take back this wasteland but they would tame it, and they would rule it. Nothing  
could stop them. Nothing-

A flash of light engulfed Arthur's vision as a wave of heat spread over him-

He awoke with a start, gasping for air. The usual thrum of the Vertibirds rotors reverberated all around him, as did the  
brisk tone of the pilot attempting a hail.

"This is East Coast Brotherhood of Steel squad Lyon's Pride. I repeat, this is the East Coast Brotherhood of Steel.  
Requesting assistance from any remaining Brotherhood personnel in the area, I repeat, requesting assistance. The Citadel  
has been lost and our order shattered. Requesting assistance." the pilot informed his headset before clicking it off.

"Where are we?" Arthur asked no one in particular, rubbing the gunk out of his eyes and trying to get over his nightmare.

"Just outside Chicago, Squire." Vargas answered him, looking over at him from the other side of the Vertibird.

"Any hope they'll contact us?" Arthur couldn't help but ask.

"Well," Glade spoke up suddenly. "On our first run through we established contact, but they informed us they had no  
interest of returning to the fold. Said the Brotherhood had 'no more sight on what was good for humanity anymore than a  
blind mole rat.' So we left them to do as they wished. But now... pretty sure that doesn't matter anymore huh?"

His words almost prophetic, the Vertibird's radio crackled with return static.

"East Coast contingent this is Bunker Alpha, your request for assistance has been approved. Please proceed to these  
coordinates." an authoritative voice spoke through the speakers before rattling off a string of numbers. Arthur felt the  
knot in his chest lessen considerably.

"Well I'll be damned." Dusk grumbled admirably.

"Yeah, I'll admit I didn't have much hope for the plan either..." Glade conceded sheepishly.

"It doesn't matter. We're back with the Brotherhood, Codex or not." Vargas solemnly said, and Arthur couldn't agree more.

When they landed the Vertibird and exited, things didn't seem quite right.

For one thing, their fellow Brothers had their weapons drawn on them.

For another, all their gear appeared to be Enclave.

And finally, four abnormally hairy deathclaws flanked all sides of them in the ring set around their Vertibird.

Arthur was beginning to suspect that this was a clever ruse by the Enclave until a voice barked through the air.

"Brotherhood, stand down!"

All the Enclave in the area suddenly motioned their barrels to point at the ground and Arthur knew that at least they  
weren't immediately hostile. Now that he wasn't fearing for his life he noticed that not everything about their gear was  
Enclave; although there were a plethora of plasma rifles, here and there were the Brotherhood's laser rifles. And their  
armor. Although at first glace it seemed Enclave in appearance, the helmet was completely different. It was far more  
rounded like a human skull and had what appeared to be pronged horns protruding from the temples. But the rest of their  
armor was almost completely Enclave in appearance, despite the Brotherhood of Steel insignia painted on their pauldrons.

The ring of steel opened for man armored in what appeared to be Tesla Mk II, a gatling laser strapped to his back.

"So you're what's left of the East Coast Brotherhood huh?" a gritty voice blared through the external speakers.

"That's right. We were betrayed. A trusted ally blew everyone to hell."

"Damn. How'd they manage that?"

"Orbital strike via satellite onto our base of operations."

The Knight let out a low whistle. "So what made you come this way? No other options?"

"Exactly."

"Well, I hate to break it to you pal, but just in case you haven't heard our names have all been struck from the Codex.  
Lost Hills claims we're all rouge now. Shame really because we control about half the goddamn country and got tech they'd  
wet themselves for back there. Don't think you'd want to sully your name with the likes of us." the Knight paused as he  
seemed to notice Arthur. "Who's the kid?"

"Squire Maxson, descendant from the Founder John Maxson." Vargas announced casually and immediately caused a buzzing of  
murmurs among the attending Knights.

"Oh you gotta be shitting me are you for real?" Arthur could hear the Knight exclaim and Arthur couldn't help but notice  
his language was far more coarse than any of the other Brothers he'd interacted with. Except maybe in the field.

"Dead serious." Vargas replied grimly.

"Well that just changes the situation dramatically don't it?" the Knight sighed. "Okay, obviously this is going to require  
a bit of finesse. So for now, you stay. Katana squad, stay here and guard this bird until we can figure out what to do  
with it. The rest of you escort the East Coasters here into Bunker Alpha. Take them to the mess hall and then back to your  
assigned duties." the Knight barked authoritively, falling in line with the Lyon's Pride as they began a march north.

"I need to get in touch with my superiors back in Colorado and more likely than not they'll want to speak with you. I  
assume you're the one in charge here?" he asked Vargas as they marched northward, six of the other Knights staying behind  
to guard their vehicle.

"Affirmative. Paladin Vargas, at your service." Vargas nodded and held out his hand.

"Paladin Lord Garson, at yours." the Knight told him as they shook hands.

**Author's Note: The power armor the Midwestern Brotherhood wears IS Enclave (advanced Mk II) armor but they've integrated their original power armor helms to complement it. The reason for this will be explained next chapter.**

**Also, if you've made it this far and don't think it's complete trash, how about a review? Hell, even if you think it IS trash write a review. Although why you made it to the fourth chapter on a shit story is beyond me.**


	5. Patrol

**Author's Note: The story will get its namesake this chapter.**

* * *

**Five Years Pass**

Junior Knight Maxson sat in the crash seat of the Vertibird, clutching the laser rifle to his chest. He was still getting  
used to the feeling of power armor despite wearing it a dozen times before now; his training had finally been completed  
and satisfactory enough for him to be sent in the field. Not that the Midwesterners (or as he reffered to them, the  
"Mids") were highly keen on letting the descendant of their founder in the field but then again who would? He was being  
deployed now on a routine patrol along with the same Mid squad he'd been assigned to for the last two weeks. There were  
five of them: Amos, the pale brunette currently checking over his plasma rifle; Natalia, the dark-skinned woman smoking a  
cigarette as she bounced her grenade launcher up and down on her knee; Evans, the blonde man calmly counting the  
microfusion cell charge count under his breath; Jasper, the ghoul sighting her sniper rifle, her lanky black hair swaying  
against the turbulence of the Vertibird; and finally Barr, their super-mutant heavy taking turns glancing at everyone else  
in the squad. Maxson still remembered the first time he and the Pride had caught sight of the uglies and the zombies in  
Bunker Alpha. They'd almost caused a firefight on pure instinct. Thankfully the Paladin Lord was able to talk them down  
and convince them that things were different around here. It took some getting used to, but after training with the ghouls  
and the mutants Maxson found they weren't so bad once you got to know them.

Of course, he wasn't sure the Pride carried his same views. Not that he'd know. He hadn't seen them in almost a year now.  
After the initial meetings with the Mids' Elders and generals they had been grudgingly accepted into the rouge  
Brotherhood's fold. Maxson suspected it was mainly because of him; no way would anyone turn away a Maxson. That wasn't  
conceit on his part, that was just what he knew. After they had been accepted, they were of course put to work. Maxson  
began his training as an Initiate in the Brotherhood of Steel, and the Lyon's Pride were sent on various missions  
throughout the wastelands. Maxson soon discovered the Mids were nothing like the Brotherhood he was used to; while in the  
Capital Wastes resources were finite and so was manpower, out here there was no such thing. Back in 2198, about eighty-  
four years ago, a great General known only as The Warrior defeated a great threat, the AI known as the Calculator and its  
robot army. Since then the Brotherhood began to focus on recruitment to anyone that wanted to join up, as long as they had  
the guts to stomach it. They even began recruiting super-mutants after the defeat of their army and leader, an insane  
Brother known as Latham. They rebuilt and they prospered. They even began clearing out the Enclave. That's where the  
Lyon's Pride were now, slowly eliminating the threat nestled inside Chicago. That's how the Mids were able to have such  
widespread gear among their troops. Maxson had been told until fifty years ago, no one above the rank of Paladin could  
wear power armor. How ridiculous was that?

"Nearing landing zone, get ready to gear up and get out!" the pilot called from up front.

"Alright you heard the man! Get locked, cocked, and ready to rock!" Maxson called out to the Vertibird as everyone minus  
Barr donned their helmets in anticipation and loaded their respective weapons.

Being squad leader did have its perks.

The Vertibird thudded, announcing its landing. The side doors slid open. The five steel-clad warriors and the super-mutant  
rushed out of the vehicle, weapons drawn and searching the immediate area for any hostiles. None were found, but that  
didn't mean any of them relaxed. As the Vertibird took back off into the sky Maxson took a better look at his  
surroundings. They were in a clearing, a pre-War football field to be precise. A blacktop track circled around the field,  
the stands beyond it empty and rusting. One of the monolithic goal posts at the southern end of the field had succumbed to  
the pressure of the war and fell, collapsing into the field. As far as he could tell, the remaining post and the school  
nearby were the only buildings of interest in the area. Just like everywhere else across America, the surrounding lands  
had become a wasteland; very few if any intact buildings remained. Any mostly comprising of wood had disappeared years  
ago, leaving only the stone and metal of a world gone by.

"Move out Angel Squad. Jasper, get as far up as you can and scope it out. Everyone else spread out and take up firing  
positions near those tables. Keep an eye out on that school." he ordered as he leveled his rifle in the direction of the  
school, ready to fire at the first sign of movement. His Brothers trusted his lead; he'd been with them since they were  
all initiates. Jasper took up a position on highest rise of the bleachers, alternating scans between the school and the  
surrounding wastelands. Maxson peered out into the dark windows, hoping to see nothing. You never knew what was in any of  
the buildings anywhere in this world anymore. He'll never forget the last time they decided a building was empty without  
clearing it. Feral ghouls everywhere. Jasper seemed to take a lot of satisfaction in blowing thier rotten brains out.

"Movement inside the school!" Evans called out suddenly. Maxson pivoted his head around more rapidly, checking for what  
Evans had seen.

"What'd you see?" Barr asked in his booming tone. The difference between these mutants and their east coast cousins,  
Maxson discovered, was the fact that they were far more intelligent.

"Couldn't be sure but it was... red." Evans stated, his head craned for another glimpse of the possible target.

"Feral?" Maxson asked, and the response he got was one of gunfire. The staccato of an automatic weapon could be heard from  
the school as Maxson felt a multitude of rounds ping off of his power armor.

Well, so much for that hopeful thought.

"Barr, send them a message! Everyone else, flip the tables, use them for cover!" Maxson cried out as he followed his own  
orders and kicked over a metal table. The super-mutant hefted his missile launcher and fired a rocket toward the direction  
the gunfire had come from. The missile impacted underneath the window and subsequently caved in the cement wall  
surrounding it, blasting fire into the area. Whether it was a kill or not didn't matter. Almost immediately afterward even  
more gunfire opened up on the Brotherhood squad, Maxson barely making it to a table and flipping it over to use for cover.  
He swore, and looked to see who else was behind cover. Everyone was... except for Barr. The mutant was roaring at his  
personal victory and consequently took what appeared to be dozens of rounds to the torso. He fell with a dull thud to the  
cement.

"Fuck! Natalia, make them eat it. Everyone else cover her." Maxson ordered over the barrage of bullets whining over their  
heads and peppering into their cover. Good thing these tables are solid metal Maxson inwardly thanked to whoever was  
listening as the barrage petered out. He stood and pivoted at his hip to face the school, firing his AER9 as quickly as it  
would allow. To his left, Natalia shouldered her grenade launcher and fired into the building. Six whumps sounded out as  
six grenades soared gracefully through the air one at a time, five finding their targets of the windows, the lone loser  
clattering against the cement wall. Nary one second later six explosions sounded off in quick succession, fire and smoke  
greeting Maxson's sight. The midday air was then filled with cries of the wounded and dying. Maxson chuckled darkly.  
Served them right.

"Angel Squad, move in before they return fire! CQC protocols, move it!" Maxson ordered and then charged for the steel  
doors. He pulled at the handle and was rewarded with it opening. He used his foot to keep it open and scan the area.  
Cafeteria. No targets presented themselves. He waved the rest of his squad in, took one last look at the prone form of  
Barr, and then stepped inside himself.

The silence that greeted them didn't mean a damn thing. "Stay alert. We don't know how many more are in here." Maxson  
reminded them.

"Bastards took out Barr." Jasper spat through gritted teeth as she cocked back the slide on her submachine gun. They had  
been good friends. Maxson quelled his rising emotions.

"Then get revenge on them Jasper. Just don't let anger cloud your judgement. Take Evans and head east. Amos, with me.  
Natalia, stay here. If it's not us, blow 'em the fuck away."

"Yes sir." they all affirmed as Maxson moved to the western set of doors, Amos quietly falling in step behind him. He pulled open the door and pressed against it so it fell against the wall. A quick nod to Amos and he leaned from his cover to the left, Amos to the right.

"Clear." Maxson stated.

"Clear." Amos replied. Together they swept from their cover into the hall, letting the door thud behind them. Since stealth was nigh impossible in power armor they had to rely on sharper wit, superior tactics, and serious firepower. Back to back, Maxson and Amos made their way down the corridor. Maxson could see what was probably the atrium at the end of the hall, and insight told him that's where the main staircase would be. He hoped that the chamber would be clear and his hope won out; the room was deserted. Maxson butted his elbow into Amos' back twice and he pivoted around to the Knight's side. Together they made their way up the staircase, the moans of the men they injured now slightly audible. They were almost at the top when a man appeared before them. He was tan and unshaven, a Type 93 assault rifle aimed at them. But what caught Maxson's eye was the man's armor; it was crimson, blood red. Maxson could just make out the insignia on his breast of two D's over a pitchfork before it disappeared under a hail of laser and plasma fire along with most of the man's torso. Sufficiently burnt to a crisp, Maxson and his squadmate stepped over the smoldering corspe and were greeted with a hallway... and another red-armored trooper peering at them behind the sights of his assault rifle. The two Brotherhood members fired just as he did, keeping up a sustained burst until his magazine was empty and he fell to the floor with a melting face. Throught the haze of the adrenaline Maxson realized he'd been hit, stepping away from the open hall to a nearby wall on the alcove, setting his laser rifle down long enough to fumble for a stimpack from the satchel on his back hip, noticing Amos take the same measures.

"How you holding up?" the Junior Knight asked the Senior Squire.

"Nothing bad sir. Stims should patch it up in a minute." he grunted as he stuck the needle of the healing syringe into his wound and depressed the plunger, Maxson following him in turn.

"Good, let's get in there. You take point."

Amos nodded, sidestepping out from his cover.

There was a loud boom and a flash of heat and suddenly Amos was no longer there. He was crashing into the far wall and falling two stories down to the floor. Maxson could hear whooping and cheering coming from down the hall, a gruff voice congratulating someone for a well-placed shot.

His blood boiling, his mind a haze, Maxson pried a plasma grenade away from his belt and primed it. He waited two seconds and then flung it down the hall without leaving his cover. There were a few cries of surprise and then a sickly green light strobed briefly on the doorjamb. The Junior Knight then stepped out behind his cover, laser rifle at the ready. Three men lay on the ground, burnt and screaming. Three squeezes of the trigger, three bolts of energy to their skulls.

It was then that he suddenly felt the ground shake.

He keyed his squad's comlink. "Jasper, any idea what that was?"

Silence.

"Jasper come in!" Arthur ordered. A familiar chill ran through his blood as laughter started to sound from the stairway. Maxson turned on his heel to find the man with most of his torso charred giggling like a lunatic and spitting out blood. "Oh man that was a blast, get it? A blast, hehehehe." he cackled, not attempting to move.

Maxson was picking him up by the front of his combat armor in three strides. "Who the fuck are you?" he growled, his voice dripping with rage and menace.

"Who, me? I'm a nobody. Hired gun. Us? Only the baddest motherfuckers to ever grace the wastes heh heh. You got no idea what's coming. He's coming hahaha. We're just the advance force. There ain't no stopping us. We're the goddamned Devil's Division hehehe who the fuck has a hope?" the trooper cackled, obviously delirious and possibly on drugs.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Maxson growled as he aimed his laser rifle one handed and digging it into the merc's temple.

"Heh, the boss man, the big boss man, they say he took all you bastards out back in DC. Destroyed your whole base and killed you all out. They call him the Devil of the Wastes. He's raised an army. He's went north, and now he's coming west for the rest of ya. He controls the Pitt, the Commonwealth, the Institute, New York. You don't have a fuckin' chance. Can't stop us. We're the goddamned Devil's Division-"

Maxson had heard enough and sent an energy beam through his skull.

It was then he began hearing smaller explosions echoing back from the way he and Amos had come from. He immediately turned about and sprinted back that way. His comlink crackled inside his helmet. "Maxson, there's too many of the-" he heard before another large-scale explosion rocked the whole building.

"Fuck it all to hell!" he screamed inside his helmet. He was about to rush back into the cafeteria and go out in a blaze of glory before his training took hold. He stopped. If he went in there it would result in nothing but his death, and the rest of the Brotherhood had no idea of the threat that was on their doorstep. Maxson was positive he had only caught a scouting party, and a scouting party packing this much firepower could not be anything remote to good news. He forced himself to calm down. He spun back around to the school's atrium, making his way to the set of glass doors leading outside. On his way he passed by Amos. He whispered a goodbye to his fallen squadmate as he exited the school, sprinting as fast as he could away from it as he tried to hail any Vertibird in the area.


End file.
